Keep On Living
by a-word-nerd
Summary: Life seems to screech to a halt for Finnick and Annie when the terms of the Quarter Quell are announced. However, Finnick has something to ask Annie that might just make her want to keep on fighting.


Annie, Finnick, and Mags sat together in Mags' living room waiting for President Snow to announce the terms of this year's Hunger Games, the 75th Quarter Quell. They were each a little nervous; all bets were off when it came to Quarter Quells. Every twenty-five years, the Gamemakers typically disposed of the few rules they enforced and conjured up some unbelievably sick and twisted way of "celebrating" the continuation of the Games.

They listened to Snow talk briefly about the history of the Games and the reason for having the Quarter Quell. "And now, on this, the seventy-fifth anniversary of our defeat of the rebellion, we celebrate the third Quarter Quell."

The crowd erupted in cheers as Snow pulled a card out of an envelope on the podium in front of him. "As a reminder," he said as the cheers died down, "that even the strongest cannot overcome the power of the Capitol…"

Finnick's eyes narrowed as he leaned a little closer to the TV. Where was this going?

"…on this, the third Quarter Quell Games, the male and female tributes are to be reaped from the existing pool of victors in each district."

In the second it took for Snow's words to sink in, all three of them froze. Time screeched to a halt and a deafening silence clouded the room. _The existing pool of victors._ All three of them were members of that existing pool. That meant…_no. No, no, no, no—_

"NO!" Annie cried in horror. Before Finnick or Mags could react at all, she had scrambled to her feet and darted for the back door.

"Annie! Annie, wait!" Finnick got to his feet too, but the door was already swinging shut. Mags had had the good sense to shut the TV off, so the living room was once again laden with a very heavy silence.

Finnick sat back down on the couch where he had been moments ago, dejectedly running his fingers through his bronze hair. Mags leaned back in her rocking chair across from him, gazing at him with concerned eyes.

"This is crazy. I don't believe this." Finnick said after a minute. Mags nodded, a sad look on her face. "We were doing so well…she was doing so well. God, Mags, I can't…I can't lose her." He couldn't stop the tears from springing to his eyes.

Mags leaned forward so she could reach out and put one weathered hand on his shoulder. He looked at her pleading for help with terrified sea-green eyes. "What do I do?"

With the hand that wasn't on his shoulder, Mags pointed at him, and then at the door that Annie had just disappeared through. Finnick could imagine what she'd say if she were still able to talk: _Go find her, for starters._

He took a deep breath. "Okay."

XXXXXX

Finnick found Annie sitting on the rock that they always went to together to watch the sun rise over the ocean. It was dark out now, and the tide had begun its nightly ritual of creeping farther and farther up the shore. She sat hugging her knees, staring out at the horizon with a look on her face that was unreadable even to him. He sat down next to her, not saying anything right away.

"Trust the Capitol to always keep us on our toes, huh?" She said quietly after a minute of silence.

"Yeah," Finnick replied, unable to think of anything else to say.

They were quiet again for a short time before Annie spoke again. "They promise us a long life of peace after we win the Games. They say we'll never have to fear for our lives on Reaping Day or go hungry ever again. But what they don't tell you is that that's the short end of the straw—if you're lucky, you just die in the arena." She swallowed thickly. "Finn, I can't go back there. I can't."

"Hey, come on now." Finnick said soothingly, putting his arm around her shoulders and pulling her closer to him. "Don't talk like that. You're not the only female victor from District Four. Your name will only be in the bowl once. There's no guaranteeing anything. Try not to worry."

"I don't want you to go either." Annie's voice shook.

Finnick paused. He wished more than anything that he could tell her that he wouldn't leave her, but he couldn't make her an empty promise. Knowing President Snow and the Capitol's infatuation with him, a certain amount of doubt existed in his mind that he would be let off the hook that easily. But his job right now wasn't to worry about himself; it was to comfort Annie. "I'm not the only male victor, either. Everyone's got an equal shot, and volunteers are still allowed." It didn't sound reassuring, even to himself.

"Yeah…" Annie didn't seem particularly relieved.

"Annie…" Finnick put his other arm around her and held her tightly. "I wish I could promise you that it was going to be okay. There's nothing I want more than to protect you. It kills me that I can't always do that. But what I can promise you is that I'm going to do everything in my power to keep you safe. Snow can keep on trying to scare us. He's going to keep on sending people into the arena, and we don't have any control over that. But what we do have control over is how we live our own lives. If we don't let them scare us, then they can't win. We've just got to…go on living every day to its fullest."

"How are we supposed to do that?" Annie asked, her voice muffled by his shirt.

Finnick deliberated in his head for a few seconds, trying to decide if this was the time. Noticing how the moon painted the ocean a gleaming silver-white in spots and how the stars were strikingly beautiful scattered across the clear night sky, he knew that it was. "Like this."

With hands that were now shaking with nervousness, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box that he'd been carrying around for several weeks. Just as Annie removed her head from his shoulder to look quizzically between him and it, he let go of her and got down on one knee in the sand in front of her. The expression on her face transitioned quickly from confusion to shock.

"Annie Cresta," Finnick began, forcing his voice to remain steady. "You are the strongest and most beautiful woman I have ever known. You are my reason for getting out of bed in the morning, my light in the dark when it seems like nothing will ever be okay again, and the love of my life. There is nobody on this earth that I would rather spend the rest of my life with. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?

Annie, who had started crying tears of joy about halfway through his proposal, looked from him to the gorgeous blue and silver ring and then back at him. "Yes," she said, trying to dry her eyes enough so that she could see clearly. "Yes, I will." And she threw her arms around his neck, half-laughing and half-crying.

Finnick set the ring down in the sand next to them and returned her hug, choosing at that moment not to worry about President Snow or the Quarter Quell or his appointments in the Capitol. Right here, right now, nobody could touch either of them, and he could at least feel for a short time like everything was going to be okay.


End file.
